The Beginning of the End? Fears for America

I know it’s unfashionable. I’m not American, but I love America. Right now, however, I’m concerned that we are seeing the beginnings of permanent decline in the great American empire.

Let’s start positive. Why do I love the US of A? Well I don’t love it in that crazy, flag-waving hand-on-heart, gooey way that Americans love America. I love it as an admirer of nations that make a contribution. I love it as interested observer of what makes people and communities tick. As an Australian, I love it as a big brother is loved, looking past its flaws to admire the underlying heart and soul.

I love the super-sized grandeur of its landscapes. The whole place feels like a movie set. I love the XXXL madness of its cities. To fly in over LA and look down on its freeway system in action makes Melbourne’s traffic troubles look like peak hour in Wagga Wagga.

And I love America’s self-confidence. Where Australia makes an artform of cultural cringe, the self-belief of Americans is rusted on. It’s an unquestioned self-belief that allows them to, without any hint of irony, run ‘World Series’ competitions that don’t extend beyond American borders. More importantly, as Waleed Aly explained very well in The Monthly last year, even a nation like ours, which can legitimately claim a solid record on the inclusion of immigrants, can’t hold a candle to the ability of America to make everyone, of every background, believe in their Americanism ahead of any ethnic patriotism.

Unfortunately, it is this self-confidence that is getting America into trouble.

When Barack Obama won the presidency, the dream of the rest of the world was that we were witnessing a moderation of the American temperament. That by electing a black Democratic as leader, the American electorate was maturing, moving to the centre and willing to take the first steps towards a fairer and more sustainable future.

As is now becoming clear, the rest of the world, along with a large slab of the Democratic Party faithful, was, indeed, dreaming.

The rapid growth of the Tea Party movement with its accompanying hysteria, increasing religious extremism and the loss of Ted Kennedy’s senate seat to Republican Scott Brown, indicate that far from moderating, America and its politics is becoming more extreme – especially on the right. More importantly, the U.S. Supreme Court ruling removing limits to corporate political spending will make the nation’s politicians even servile to the banks, oil companies and health insurers.

In effect, America has become a grumpy old man. Or perhaps a better analogy is a grumpy old political leader: think Maggie Thatcher or John Howard towards the end. It has fought damn hard to impose its will on the world, to mould the world to its liking and to marginalise its enemies. It has exceeded its expectations, which has only served to entrench its belief that it is right, that its way is the only true way. It doesn’t want to let go, doesn’t see any need to change. It has read Sarah Palin’s book and had its beliefs further reinforced, and it has no intention whatsoever of letting an upstart young black man of dubious origin do too much unravelling.

Problem is, as happens with most grumpy old men, the world is starting to pass it by. Marginalising itself on climate change and ineffective in foreign diplomacy, America is being taken less and less seriously. Increasingly, the world will be happy to leave the old fella sitting in the corner, dribbling and talking to itself.

The story of history has many chapters with abrupt endings. Everything from individual politicians to complete empires have had their narrative cut short by refusing to change.

In Thomas Homer-Dixon’s book The Upside of Down he uses the analogy of driving in dense fog to describe the direction of modern civilisation – particularly Western civilisation. We in the west, he argues, are hurtling along a country road enveloped by such a fog. Our confidence is such that we have, at least until recently, refused to countenance the idea of slowing down as a precautionary measure. But while other nations show early signs of at least thinking about acting to ease the pressure on the gas, America looks like pressing its foot back to the floor.

When Homer-Dixon goes on to argue the risks of this he could well be describing the collective American psyche:

“Too often today we talk about our world as if it’s a machine that we can precisely manipulate. We talk as if we can understand and master everything around us, keeping what we want and discarding what we don’t want. … The surest way for us to crash disastrously is to believe that we know and can master it all, because then we’ll lose our capacity for self-criticism and self-reflection.”

Both sides of American politics could be accused of this mode of thinking. The Right now see America’s troubles as the result of Obama’s over-zealous manipulation while the Left, such as it is, see the problem as Obama not manipulating enough. Neither side seems prepared to acknowledge that America no longer has control of all the levers.

In an episode of The Wire, stevedore Frank Sobotka looks over a run down factory and bemoans: “We used to make shit in this country, build shit. Now we just put our hand in the next guy’s pocket.”

He’s right. America used to build big stuff. America built the automotive industry. It built the airline industry, including the Jumbo Jet way back in the ‘60s (forty years before the Europeans matched it). It built the computer industry on which the world now revolves. In short, America built the foundations of our modern way of life. No wonder it thinks it can manipulate the world.

Now, America builds, and renovates, banks. Oh … and debt.

And rather than try and reinvent itself as a nation, rather than try and navigate its challenges, it is intent on splitting itself down the middle.

It will take time. America will fade rather than be conquered. But fade it will, I fear. And as it does, the world will lose one of its great contributors.